


Posted

by ratherbehere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pink Panties, Quarantine, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbehere/pseuds/ratherbehere
Summary: When the shelter-in-place orders go into effect, Dean and Cas are living out their senior year in college as roommates. So they'll be fine, they have each other as company, and Facebook games to keep them entertained. They're just silly little games. They certainly couldn't lead to any crazy confessions or world-altering realizations, could they?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 31
Kudos: 245





	Posted

**Author's Note:**

> Written during the shelter-in-place orders of 2020. Other than the nature of being stuck inside together, the Facebook games that cropped up during that time, and a mention of making masks, the virus is not discussed at all. It doesn't get a role here. This fic is meant to cheer people up, not bring them down.

**Dean**

“Pffft. Dean. You love books. That’s a horrible answer for your unpopular dislikes list.”

Dean whirled in his computer chair and stared at Cas. “How dare you.”

Cas shrugged and slurped another spoonful of cereal. Somehow, though slurping bothered a lot of people, with Cas, Dean found it endearing. After that bite had been swallowed, Cas replied, “I dare because it’s true. You quote Vonnegut every other day.”

Dean crossed his arms. “Vonnegut gets a pass. Name one other book that I’ve read and liked.”

A scruffy eyebrow raised at him. “War of the Worlds. 1984. All of the Game of Thrones books. Dean--” he pointed his spoon “--each of those is like two or three books all in one. And the--”

“Those don’t count.”

“Why not?”

Dean’s mouth moved like a fish’s, trying and failing to find an answer before he grumpily turned back to his laptop. “Just finish your damn cereal.”

Their apartment was small and only a fraction bigger than their dorm rooms had been. But it was theirs and theirs alone, making senior year much more enjoyable. Benny and Garth still dropped by from time to time, missing that quad life together, but overall, it had been nice to make the break and get his best friend all to himself. 

Not that he’d ever tell the guy that. Of course not. That would make it sound like he was in love with him or something.

“You forgot oranges.”

“What?” Dean asked, looking up from the keyboard he’d been staring at absently.

Cas waved his spoon around. “For your list. You hate oranges.”

“Right.” His chest did a funny little flutter. Cas remembered he hates oranges? That had come up one time in the cafeteria. Two years ago. “Thanks man. That makes ten.”

It was a silly game, something that everyone seemed to be doing on Facebook during the quarantine. The games kept cropping up and, bored, they’d both been participating in most of them. Dean had been trying to think of ten items for his unpopular opinion list for a day or two. Sure, he had plenty of things to bitch about, but not many he was willing to air publicly and risk looking like an insensitive ass.

“Dogs” was not going to win him any friends. In fact, such an admission would likely have him facing one of Charlie’s purple nurples once the shelter-in-place order was lifted, and his nips were too sensitive for that kind of torture.

Oranges were a much safer item.

He added it to the list and hit post. “There. It’s live.”

The response to his victory was a loud slurp of milk. Dean smiled.

**Cas**

“Cas. For fuck’s sakes, really? You can’t share that picture.”

Dean’s presence moved to Castiel’s back, warm, like a cozy blanket. Cas turned his head to look up at him, trying to figure out what Dean’s objection was, as if the answer would be written on his face. 

“Why not? Jody is looking for the color blue. Your shirt is blue in this picture.”

“And I’m waving my hand at a bee. It’s an awful picture Cas, why’d you even save it?”

Warmth flooded his cheeks and he looked sharply away. He can’t tell Dean that he thought it was cute. The way Dean had been outraged by the presumptuous bee, the way his face scrunched as he’d tried to get it to leave, the way the sunlight had fallen on his face and made his freckles shine.

“I’ll find a different one.”

Dean grunted as Cas pulled up his camera roll again. He had lots of pictures of various animals, some shots of strange things like door signs that he thought were interesting. There was more than a few of Dean--at the football games, some concerts they’d attended, or playing something silly like flag football with his brother Sam or poker with Charlie.

“That one.” Dean pointed a finger at the screen. It was a selfie they’d taken together at the seafood festival.

“We’re looking for the color blue, Dean.”

“So?”

“There isn’t a single drop of blue in that picture.”

“Oh. Uh.” Dean straightened behind him. “Right. Of course.”

Dean backed away, muttered something under his breath and headed to his room. Shaking off the sensation that Dean had been embarrassed, Cas kept scrolling until he found a landscape picture he’d taken on a vacation to the lake. Between the sky and the water, it was filled with blue. And Dean was only barely in it, at the very bottom corner, floating on his back as the warm summer sun swept over his golden skin. Surely he couldn’t protest that choice.

Cas posted it, stretched, and headed to the bathroom. 

It was only when he looked up at his reflection that he realized what had been blue in the picture Dean had picked. 

**Dean**

“Damn it, Cas.” Dean slammed the table with a fist, making his plate of french fries and pizza rolls jiggle. “The answer is 133.”

Cas stabbed a fry with a fork. Honestly. With a fork. “It’s 73.”

“Repeating that doesn’t make it true.”

“Did you remember the order of operations? You have to do the multiplication first, even though--”

Cas cut himself off as Dean jerked his phone into his hand and stared at the graphic again. “Fine. 108 then.” When silence met his answer, Dean looked up from his phone to glare at Cas. “What,” he growled.

“There are two brooms in the middle set.” At the face Dean pulled, Cas rushed to add, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Dean would never. Focusing on the puzzle again, he was able to deduce that if there were two brooms there, then that meant there were probably two wands somewhere. And he was right. Two, at the bottom equation. He did the math again, almost sliding over to the calculator for part of it. But, he wasn’t an engineering major for nothing.

And if Cas and his journalism degree could get the answer, then he damn well should be able to figure this one out too.

“213.”

Cas leaned back from the table and bit his lip.

“What. What the fuck did I miss? Do I need to count the angles on the star of the wand? Or is one of the brooms an inch shorter? Or--”

“The witch at the bottom isn’t holding a wand or broom.”

Dean checked, but he knew Cas was right. With more strength than the situation called for, he threw his phone at the couch, a mere ten feet away. Because he was mad, not stupid. 

“This entire puzzle can eat my whole ass.”

**Cas**

Dean was blushing violently as he stared at his laptop screen. That caught Castiel’s attention far more than the crafting project he’d started working on. “What is it?” he asked cautiously.

“The new game. They want everyone to share their prom pictures.”

Cas hummed, no longer that interested. He picked up the glue, ready to resume his attempt at making a mask without a sewing machine. If it worked, he had plenty of fabric leftover from the time he’d helped the drama department with backdrops. The intent was to make enough for all of the elderly and immunocompromised in their apartment. 

“I didn’t go to prom, so I guess I’ll sit that one out,” Castiel said as he attached a length of elastic to the cloth.

Dean’s chair made a thump as it hit the ground. “Seriously?”

He let one shoulder raise in a shrug. “Seriously. I wasn’t interested in anyone romantically at the time.” Not strictly true, there were a few guys that had caught his eye, but since that wasn’t going to happen, it didn’t matter.

“Huh. Hard to believe you didn’t have dozens asking you though.”

Cas looked up. “I appreciate that vote of confidence Dean, but I was--and still am--a fairly odd person. It takes a special sort to be interested in me.” He tilted his head as he looked past Dean’s shoulder to his screen. “But you clearly went. So what’s the problem?”

The woman in the picture was pretty. Long, raven hair that waved around her shoulders, a purple streak added at the temple. Her eyes were also striking, even from here, where he couldn’t quite make out the color. 

Dean was blushing. Violently this time. Cas put the mask down. “Oh, this is going to be good. Who was she?”

“Rhonda Hurley,” Dean said. Only it came out raspy and he had to cough to clear his throat and repeat himself.

“And what did Rhonda Hurley do?”

“Nothing!” Dean squeaked. Cas watched as he physically straightened himself and tried to get a literal grip. “She did nothing.”

“What did you do then?”

Dean looked away sharply and Cas could only smirk. “That good, huh.” When Dean kept his eyes glued to the wall, Cas sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me. But I’ll remind you, I’m an investigative journalist, and I can track Rhonda down--”

Dean jerked so hard he almost fell out of his chair. “No!”

Chuckling, Cas held up his hands. “I’m only teasing, Dean. You don’t have to tell me. Though it’s hard to imagine we have many secrets left between us.”

He was leveled with a keen look. After a long, tense moment, Dean asked, “What’s the real reason you didn’t go to prom?” Cas swallowed. “Yeah, I don’t have to be a fancy investigative journalist to know you didn’t tell me everything.”

Cas refused to break eye contact. He wasn’t ashamed, wasn’t intentionally in the closet. He just hadn’t been interested in anyone while at college and the topic had never come up.

“Catholic schools generally don’t like it when boys take boys to the school dance.”

He never doubted that Dean would accept his admission, he even had his doubts about Dean being entirely straight himself. But it was nonetheless a huge relief when Dean nodded his understanding. “No, they really don’t, do they.”

Silence hung in the air for a long moment, then Dean spoke again. “Pink panties.”

“What?” Cas asked, head snapping to Dean. 

“Rhonda. She uh. She made me try on her pink panties.”

Castiel blinked at that. “And you’re embarrassed because you liked it.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “How-- How did you know that?”

“I just know you, Dean.” Castiel picked up his mask. “Trying them on would only embarrass you if you enjoyed it.” He added a new dollop of glue. “You don’t need to be. I bet you looked great in them.” Dean made a choking, strangling sound, so he added. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

**Dean**

“Five.”

Dean didn’t even look up from the book he was reading, his head on Castiel’s thigh. Cas hadn’t protested when he’d shifted into that position, and the leg was much more comfortable than the threadbare pillows his mom had lent them for their first apartment. 

“I’m sure you’re right, Cas.”

“Claire’s post. It says that the rabbit is going to the river, but not the elephants. And they all saw the same two monkeys. It would be ridiculous to infer otherwise. Therefore, there are only two parrots, one for each monkey. The answer is five.”

Dean turned another worn page on _Slaughter-House Five_. It was the fifteenth time he’d read the book. Not that he ‘liked books’ or anything. “So tell Claire you’ve got the answer.”

“Twenty people have commented and not a single one has gotten it right.”

“Well, not everyone is as smart as you.”

“That idiot Bella is insisting that it’s 3. That it doesn’t count if the parrots are only being carried, but the wording on the question clearly states--”

“Cas. You’re right. Let the world know, and let me finish my book.”

Cas hummed. He could hear Cas typing with his thumbs, and the sound of a reply being sent. Then Cas’s hand was in his hair.

Dean looked up, surprised, but Cas as simply holding his phone in his other hand, now scrolling what looked to be Twitter, while he absently stroked through Dean’s strands. 

It eased some of the eye strain that tugged at his temples. He finished Vonnegut still cradled in Castiel’s limbs and, so content and happy, he drifted off to sleep.

**Cas**

Castiel groaned. He’d been working at his laptop when he got distracted for the fifteen millionth time that day and tabbed over to Facebook. 

“What are you groaning about?” Dean asked from the couch behind him. He was tossed over it backward, his head almost on the ground while his feet were up on the back of it. He had a Nintendo Joy-Con in his hand and Cas had absolutely no idea how being upside down was going to help him beat the final trials. 

“Facebook. We’re supposed to be posting our Senior pictures now.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Mine are… embarrassing.”

“What, did you pose with a swarm of bees?”

Cas reached out and, without remorse, dug his fingertips into the socked soles of Dean’s feet. The sound of laughter mixed with yelps filled the air as Dean squirmed to get away. 

When Dean was finally standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving, he pointed a finger at Cas and said, “Not fair, you know how ticklish I am!”

“That’s what you get for teasing me when your feet are within reach,” Cas replied, cocky smirk still plastered on his face. 

“I’ll never make that mistake again.” Dean moved back to the couch, kneeling on it this time, facing Cas. “So what was wrong with the pics.”

Cas palmed the back of his neck, quickly glancing away.

It slowly dawned on Dean. “Oh my god, it _was_ bees, wasn’t it?”

Cas sighed. “A dress shirt with a bee print tie. How’d you know?”

“I just know you, Cas. Like I know you’re more embarrassed I got it right on a guess than you are about the tie.”

He huffed a laugh. “I don’t know, the tie was pretty awful.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

Cas wheeled to the side to let Dean see his screen. He’d already pulled the picture up. It’s why he’d groaned. He bit his lip as Dean looked at it. A pale yellow buttondown and a black tie covered in yellow bees. Why had his parents ever let him wear it?

To his immense surprise, Dean was smiling. Soft, warm, and gentle. “You look great, Cas. Share the pic.”

“Really?” He glanced back at the picture. “Maybe you should have your eyes checked.”

“Got perfect vision. And that picture is so you. Post it.”

“Doesn’t it make me look… crazy?”

Dean reached across the gap between them and put his hand over Castiel’s, resting gently on the arm of his chair. But instead of saying something reassuring and sweet, he said, “Totally.”

And then Cas was launching himself at Dean, fingers digging into every inch of torso he could find, making Dean squeal so loud that their next-door neighbor ended up thumping on the wall twice to get them to stop. 

He posted the picture later that day, and Dean ended up being right. His friends loved it.

**Dean**

“Have you seen this, Dean?” Castiel asked, angling his phone so Dean could see. They were both sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, mostly ignoring the reruns of Psych that they had put on Netflix.

Dean leaned over. “People using the quarantine as an excuse to confess their crush to their best friends?”

“Yeah. Can you even imagine? What if it backfired? You’d be stuck in that awkwardness for weeks.”

Dean huffed. “But what if it worked.”

The couch shifted under him as Cas turned to look at him. Dean met his gaze, heartbeat ticking up. Cas’s eyes dipped to Dean’s lips before he licked his own. “What if, indeed.”

Dean pressed in without thinking. It was instinct that urged him on, no conscious part of him remotely aware that he’d felt this way. 

For when his lips met Castiel’s, the whole world suddenly made sense. Every little bit of it. From looks and touches and fleeting emotions, to the reality that shaped around them. He’d been drawn to Castiel without realizing it. For years they had been like magnets that someone was holding apart, and once he stopped holding, they crashed together, complete and whole and desperate to never be apart again.

And if the way one of Castiel’s hands had scrambled at his shirt, took hold, and pulled him in closer were any indication, they were completely on the same page.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting heavily. 

“Dean, I…” Cas started. 

It sounded uncertain and three fingers to Cas’s lips silenced him. “I love you, and I’m starting to think I have for a long time, and if you’re going to say anything other than the same thing, then don’t say anything at all.”

Cas swallowed and Dean’s gut started to sink. “I was recording that.”

“Uh, what?”

“I… had a feeling you might go for it, after seeing the trend with the crushes. Or I might. I wasn’t sure. But I recorded that. Should I post our success to the hashtag?”

Dean barked out a laugh. He grabbed Cas’s phone, hit the stop button on the video, and tossed it to the empty cushion behind them. “Later. We have some time to make up for.” He twitched an eyebrow up and nodded towards the hallway where their bedrooms were. The only times he’d seen Cas naked were by accident and the memories were blurry. 

It was time to change that.

Sliding to his feet, Cas was all grin. He reached for Dean’s hand and yanked him to his feet. “My room or yours? I choose yours if you still have those pink panties.”

Warmth filled Dean’s cheeks. 

“Um. My room then.”

They rushed down the hallway, all giggles and smiles. He suspected they weren’t going to need Facebook to keep them entertained for a very long time to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always welcome! And feel free to ping me on [Tumblr](https://caswouldratherbehere.tumblr.com/). I am, amazingly, still active there.


End file.
